It's Just 12 Inches of Wood

It’s Just 12 Inches of Wood by The Coven

Author: Graballz

Beta: Miss Nikki

Author's note--MAJOR APOLOGIES to everyone! Just when we thought we had finally gotten into a workable routine of 2-week updates, life bitch-slapped us Coven girls and HOW! Just so you know, dear readers, we've had several who are still part of the group but no longer writing, but WE ARE NOT DISBANDING!!! Let me emphasize that again: WE ARE STILL HERE!!!

We hope to get back to regular updates again, so please be patient with us! Hopefully this chapter helps to explain some things? (and it picks up right where Chapter 10 left off).

Just a quick note that the misspellings in this chapter are intentional, as I was trying to capture the sound of broken English spoken with a thick Turkish accent. Also...sap warnings! (Yes, you all know I'm a major sap!) And I used another quote...(I'm sorry, okay? I just can't help myself!) More info at the bottom!

Enjoy!

Chapter 11

“You’re too close…”

Draco had taken to his bedroll by the time he heard Harry return, and he squeezed his eyes shut, feigning sleep to avoid more conversation. He tried not to twitch for fear that the parchment under his pillow would crinkle and betray that he had refolded Harry’s letter and had taken it with him into the tent. He tried to control his breathing, keeping it slow and even, as his heart twisted painfully. Logically, he knew that it would be better if they just didn’t get involved with each other; well, any more involved than they already were. He was no longer a virgin. He knew exactly what his father would have said if he knew that Draco had spread for his nemesis, and though Draco had rebelled against his parents and ran away, the knowledge that his father would be sickened and disgusted by him still hurt.

“Look, maybe this is easier because you’re asleep,” Harry’s soft voice jarred him out of his thoughts. Draco’s ears perked up, and he remembered not to open his eyes at the last second. “I really like you, Draco. I don’t know why you want to pretend like this never happened, but I’ll try. I can’t guarantee that I’ll succeed because…well, because that’s how much I like you. I’d offer to bottom if I thought it might help you trust me, because…because I can’t stop thinking about you. I worry about you when I’m not with you, and I can’t wait until I see you again. I never thought I’d say this about YOU, of all people, but…Draco, I think I could fall in love with you…if I’m not already.”

Draco’s heart thudded and he was sure Harry could hear it. Had the Gryffindor just said that he was potentially in LOVE with Draco? He was on the verge of sitting up and revealing that he was faking when he heard Harry’s disgusted snort.

“Never mind. I’m stupid enough to think that it could work between us when you’ve made it clear that nothing happened. I’m sorry, Draco; I’ll try.”

Harry got into his bedroll, lying on his side with his back to Draco. He had stared at the back of the blonde’s head during his musing, realizing just how maudlin he sounded. Now he heaved a sigh, staring at the fabric of the tent wall. Despite the events of the day, he was suddenly restless. Admitting his feelings probably wasn’t the best way to get to sleep, Harry reflected ruefully, and he thrashed about, flipping onto his back to stare at the ceiling and sighing intermittently.

Draco’s eyes popped open as soon as he heard Harry lay down, and he gazed at the tent wall in front of him, not really seeing it. A small smirk appeared as he heard the Gryffindor huff, and then Draco winced when he rolled around. He recognized the signs of insomnia: tossing and turning, the wide-awake tension, and Harry’s adorable little frustrated puffs of breath that Draco was quite sure Harry wasn’t even aware that he was making. The blonde knew he shouldn’t—after all, he was supposed to be asleep—but he couldn’t resist. He gave a small sigh, shutting his eyes again as he turned over so that he was facing Harry, ‘asleep’, snuggling his cheek into his pillow as he settled back in, trying to keep his mouth slack.

Just as he predicted, Harry froze, face turning to watch Draco’s form roll over. Harry cursed silently for nearly waking Draco up with all of his moving around, and he forced himself to lie still, listening with yearning and watching fondly as Draco sighed a little and rubbed his cheek into his pillow. Harry ached to reach out and wrap his arms around his partner, but he knew he shouldn’t.

The Gryffindor couldn’t help rolling closer so that he and Draco were almost nose-to-nose in the small tent, and Harry settled onto his side, content to watch Draco sleep while his heart slowly crumbled.

Draco knew without opening his eyes that Harry was watching him. He had had years of practice at feeling those emeralds; he could feel Harry’s closeness, and that made him a bit nervous. Not because he was afraid of Harry, but because he was afraid of how badly he wanted his partner. Harry mentioning his willingness to bottom peaked Draco’s interest, and he idly wondered whether Harry’s ex, Aiden, had bottomed or topped. He couldn’t keep from scowling as he mused that Aiden had probably topped, which led Draco to wondering how many other men Harry had bottomed for before topping HIM.

Harry’s brow furrowed as a black look came over Draco’s previously angelic face. He rose up on his elbow, wondering if Draco was in the throes of a nightmare or just an unpleasant dream. He reached out and barely brushed his fingertips over Draco’s wrinkled forehead.

“It’s okay,” he breathed. “You’re safe; I’m here.”

Draco gasped, and his eyes flew open at the unexpected comfort. Harry jumped, and Draco panted, his blood pumping, as he darted his eyes around and tried to pretend that he had just woken up.

“Harry?” He whispered groggily, and he felt the Gryffindor’s hand take his own, the one that wasn’t shoved under the pillow, gripping the parchment.

“I’m here,” Harry replied, squeezing Draco’s lightly. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to wake you. You…you looked like you were having a nightmare.”

“Something like that,” Draco muttered, not pulling his hand away. “Harry, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Harry said, surprised. Draco bit his lip and looked down at the floor of the tent, taking a deep breath.

“Why do you want to…pursue this?” He indicated their joined hands. “It’ll only complicate things.”

“Since when have things ever been simple for you and me?” Harry smiled sheepishly. “One thing I found out through dating both guys and girls is that…girls tend to think more long-term. They have that deeper emotional connection that goes beyond a one night stand, whereas most of the guys I’ve been with just wanted to get off and nothing more.

“I mean, I’m not ready to settle down or anything like that, but…I feel like I have the best of both worlds with you,” Harry touched Draco’s chin tenderly, causing the blonde to meet his eyes. Draco’s breath caught at the look in Harry’s eyes; it was hungry and loving, protective and fiery, and he could tell that he was wanted, needed.

“You are amazing and wonderful and beautiful,” Harry continued. “And you piss me off faster than anyone else EVER, but you won’t get out of my head. I miss you and your insults when you’re not here, and you challenge me. I would like to try that date again, without Aiden, and we WERE having a smashing time before it got interrupted, weren’t we?”

“Aye,” Draco replied softly, smiling a little at how much wider and more innocent Harry’s eyes appeared when he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

“I don’t blame you for being upset,” Harry said. “I know I would’ve been hurt if one of YOUR former boyfriends—or girlfriends—dropped by. But Draco, please don’t dismiss this as a passing thing. You’ve always,” the black haired boy took a deep breath and started over. “There’s always been something about you that made me react; it’s always been you. It’s just…now my brain understands what my heart’s been trying to tell me.”

Draco choked up as Harry spoke, and he closed his eyes as he swallowed hard.

“Please talk to me, Draco,” Harry begged, feeling scared at the pained expression on the blonde’s face. “Please don’t shut me out.”

“I can’t,” Draco whispered finally, trying not to tremble. “You’re too close…”

“You can trust me,” Harry said desperately, bringing Draco’s fingers to his lips as he tried to convey the depth of his emotions to his partner. “I won’t hurt you.”

Instead of the reassurance Harry hoped they would be, his words seemed to make Draco shake harder. There was a brief crinkling sound as Draco pulled his other hand out from under his pillow and covered his eyes, trying to shield his vulnerability from Harry. Distressed, Harry slid closer; worming his free hand between Draco’s wet cheek and the pillow as he slid his other hand around Draco’s back, pulling the blonde against his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that Draco didn’t resist, but he leaned his cheek against his soft blonde hair, tearing up himself because he didn’t understand Draco’s reaction.

“My father would have a seizure if he could see me now,” Draco sniffled against Harry’s collarbone.

“Because of me?”

“Partly; and because of me,” Draco admitted. “Because I’m showing weakness and because I let you…”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Harry’s hand that had been rubbing Draco’s back comfortingly stilled. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“No, you didn’t,” Draco replied, sighing. “It was just…my first time.”

“You were exquisite,” Harry whispered. “I can’t even tell you how honored I am…that you let it be me…”

“It’s always been you,” Draco whispered back. “My father couldn’t stand that.”

“He hurt you because of ME?” Harry’s incredulous voice broke the silence. “That fucking bastard!”

“How—how did you…” Draco trailed off as terror spiked through him. Harry knew.

“I was abused too,” Harry confessed. “My mum’s relatives raised me, and I knew that something wasn’t right, but I just accepted that that was the way my life was. My uncle would slap me, kick me, drag me around by my hair…that sort of thing.”

“Father whipped me for being second-best to Granger,” Draco’s eyes darkened with memory. “He would slap me when I was younger, but it wasn’t until I got older that the beatings got worse. She was right, you know, about the racing brooms for Slytherin’s Quidditch team. Only it was because he threw me down the stairs and nearly broke my arm in a fit of rage. It was his way of apologizing.”

“Draco, I’m so sorry,” Harry’s arms tightened around Draco. “I never knew.”

“No one did, especially not you and your crew of Gryffindors,” Draco reared his head back to glance at Harry’s face. “I made sure of that. I don’t want your pity. It happened, but he’s in Azkaban now, for life.”

“I don’t pity you,” Harry said honestly, pressing a kiss to Draco’s forehead before he could stop himself. “I think you’re incredibly strong and resilient. I understand what you went through; I don’t want pity either. But if your father ever sets foot outside of Azkaban, I can’t promise I won’t pay him a little visit that he won’t enjoy. But…if he’s there, then why does what he think matter so much? You deserve to be happy.”

“Obviously I have…trust issues,” Draco took a deep breath. “This is the closest I’ve ever been to anyone. When I said ‘first time’, I meant first time…ever…with girls OR guys…I’ve never trusted anyone that much. My father saw to that, and besides, Slytherins aren’t exactly known for their deep emotions or everlasting friendships. Granted, the water had a little bit to do with it, but Chenarenn said that the water freed our inhibitions, gave us our hearts’ desires. I was so scared of what that meant that I didn’t want to face it.”

“And I forced you to,” Harry realized sadly.

“I want you,” Draco said softly, looking Harry in the eye, noticing that they were both on the verge of crying. “And that scares me very badly. Not because I think you would hurt me or force me to do something,” he added quickly. “But because of how much power that gives you over me. My father taught me that if Slytherins respect one thing, it’s power, and as Malfoys, we’re not supposed to give that up.”

“Lucius was one to talk,” Harry growled before he could stop himself. “He practically whored himself out to Voldemort, thinking that that madman would win. Sorry,” he apologized when Draco winced.

“No, I know,” the blonde sighed. “It’s just…fucked up all around.”

“You know that you have the same amount of power over me, right?” Harry asked. “You’re the only one who has enough of me to break my heart.”

“I wouldn’t want to,” Draco searched Harry’s expression, finding only love and sincerity.

“My words exactly, about you,” Harry smiled, angling his face towards Draco. Fireworks exploded behind his eyes when Draco leaned in almost reflexively the last couple of inches, causing their lips to meet gently in a tender lip lock, a tentative trust and peace forged between them as they acknowledged their vulnerability to the other and were not mocked for it.

Harry reached behind him and pulled his pillow closer to Draco’s, rearranging the blonde’s pillow so that he would be comfortable in Harry’s arms. He heard another crinkle and touched the parchment, breaking the kiss as he pulled it out from the spot where Draco’s pillow had been.

“My letter?” Harry looked at the paper, and then to Draco, puzzled.

“I didn’t want to lose it,” Draco said defensively, grabbing the parchment while blushing furiously.

“No complaints here,” Harry pecked Draco on the lips until the blonde relaxed again. “We should probably get some sleep, though.”

“Good night, Harry,” Draco whispered, hesitating only a moment, waiting for teasing that never came. He tucked his head under Harry’s chin, sighing in contentment at feeling protected and cherished in Harry’s arms.

“Sleep well, my heart,” Harry replied, running his fingers through the soft blonde strands at the back of Draco’s head, before closing his eyes, falling asleep with a smile on his face.

**********

Harry woke first, smiling before he even opened his eyes because he was unconditionally happy. They were still cuddling. He kissed Draco’s head, which woke him as well, and they exchanged small, shy smiles as they disentangled themselves. The air of tranquility stayed with them as they took turns washing and dressing, and then they broke camp, walking back to the shoreline where they didn’t wait long before Ash appeared in the small boat. Their guide grinned when he spotted them, waving madly.

“You are alive!” Was his exclaimed greeting. Draco grunted in return, turning faintly distant at the relieved expression on their guide’s face when he looked at Harry.

“Indeed, we are,” Harry agreed, wrapping an arm around Draco’s waist as soon as they were sitting side-by-side in the dinghy, much to Draco’s mingled embarrassment and delight and to Ash’s dismay. The blonde ducked his head to hide his pink cheeks while Harry recounted a carefully edited version of their adventure on the island. Ash was very interested, as were the rest of his crew, since only a handful of people had returned from the island.

They spent nearly all day on the boat sailing back to Olympos. After the crew’s questions had finally been exhausted, Ash stayed behind chatting with them. Draco began to notice that Ash would interrupt him or ignore him while he was saying something. Rather than make a big ordeal of it, Draco complied by slowly dropping out of the conversation, merely observing as Ash monopolized Harry’s attention, smiling just a little too widely or appearing just a little too friendly, in Draco’s opinion.

He supposed he could have been angry at Harry for not realizing what Ash was up to, but he wasn’t. His first instinct was to allow Ash to play his little games, knowing that the Turkish man would eventually spin enough rope to hang himself, while Draco waited patiently, watching like the Slytherin he was for the man’s weaknesses. He pulled his book out and pretended to read, but he didn’t move from Harry’s side.

“Draco, there might be less of a mist over there, if your book is getting wet,” Ash finally addressed him, pointing to a spot on the other side of the boat. Draco feigned a look of innocence, blinking as if startled out of another world as he caught sight of Harry watching him. The Gryffindor was fairly easy for Draco to read, and Harry was looking a little flushed in the cheeks from Ash’s attention. He was also worrying his lower lip as if he were afraid that Draco was jealous or would move, and Draco smiled coldly.

“Thank you, Ash,” he replied, keeping his face neutral. “I think I just might do that. You two have fun.”

“But Draco…” Harry protested, just as Ash mumbled, “Oh, we will” under his breath. The blonde paused while Harry screwed up his face, but apparently he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to stop Draco from moving. Draco glanced over his shoulder, nearly caving at the forlorn expression as he settled down on the other side of the boat with his book. He smiled reassuringly and winked.

Draco was satisfied at first, when Harry kept shooting him distressed glances while conversing with Ash, but his plan began to backfire as he watched their guide inch closer to the Gryffindor, putting his hand on Harry’s arm for emphasis, even when he had no business touching Harry (in Draco’s opinion). The blonde could feel his temper rising as Harry reluctantly pulled his shirt off and Ash brushed a hand over the black haired boy’s collarbone, very nearly ghosting over his left pectoral and nipple. Draco tried to swallow the sick feeling of jealousy that was threatening to overwhelm him; HE was the one who had wanted to call it all off, so what business did he have being jealous of whom Harry spoke with?

Draco realized in a flash that Harry seemed uncomfortable, and that made him feel better. The Gryffindor was being polite to Ash, but he definitely wasn’t flirting back, by Draco’s estimations, and that reassured Draco in an odd way. He was tempted to interrupt, but just then, one of the other crew members called them for lunch, and Ash jumped back as if caught doing something wrong.

Harry made a beeline to Draco’s side, nearly ripping the book out of his pale hands as he pulled the blonde to a standing position. Draco’s eyes lit up, and an amused smile graced his lips as he ran an appreciative hand up Harry’s tanned arm, causing the boy to shiver deliciously.

“Miss me?” He teased, his lips revealing his perfect white teeth when Harry blushed harder but nodded.

“Why’d you leave me?” Harry cocked his head and brought one hand up to finger the back of Draco’s neck. “I enjoy talking to you.”

“And I you,” Draco replied. “But I do not fancy being the visual bulls-eye, and that is what I was while sitting with you and Ash. Actually, I still am, considering he’s glaring at me rather fiercely because you are over here with me instead of there with him.”

“Forget him,” Harry said, leaning forward to give Draco a chaste peck on the lips. “I want to be with you.”

“So you’ll sit with me at lunch?” Draco batted his eyelashes a little, making Harry laugh as they strolled over to where the remainder of the crew had gathered. “You know that you’d be sitting at the Slytherin table, right?”

“How do you know it’s the Slytherin table?” Harry countered warmly. “Maybe YOU are sitting at the Gryffindor table.”

“Hardly, Potter,” Draco sniffed in mock-haughtiness. “I asked you first, which automatically makes it the Slytherin table. Besides, you are WAY more Slytherin than I could ever be Gryffindor.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Harry grinned widely. “You have SOME Gryffindor in you!”

“I beg your pardon,” Draco began in a theatrically offended voice, but he abruptly cut himself off as Harry leaned forward and whispered, “and not just the parts I put there” into his ear, which effectively caused Draco to blush nearly to the roots of his pale blonde hair. Scandalized but unable to refrain from smiling, Draco responded with a punch to Harry’s shoulder before he sat and took his share of the food. Ash ate sullenly, livening up towards the end of the meal, even though Draco was still seated between him and Harry.

**********

After lunch, Harry and Ash fished a bit while Draco actually read more of his book, reassured that all of the flirting and the ‘looks’ between them was one-sided. He jumped a mile when Harry flopped down beside him, planting a quick kiss to the top of his blonde head.

“Catch anything?” Draco dropped the book when he was startled.

“Not really,” Harry replied. He was still shirtless, and Draco noted that his bruises were already starting to fade. “Good book?”

“Not really,” Draco mimicked.

“Draco, can I kiss you?” Harry burst out, turning his upper body to face the Slytherin, who froze. “Please? I just really want to kiss you right now. Is that okay with you?”

Draco nodded almost absently, focused on not allowing the panic to show visibly. He glanced up, meeting Harry’s eyes warily, and the Gryffindor’s face dropped.

“No, it’s not okay,” Harry mused, correctly reading the blonde’s look.

“Why? Why do you want to kiss me?”

“I like kissing you,” Harry smiled gently. “And I know you’re not comfortable with affection, but Draco, it’s not like you have to DO anything! You don’t have to…do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay?” He hoped that Draco would understand that he was trying to say that Draco didn’t have to instigate affection if he didn’t want to.

“I appreciate that,” the blonde replied, taking a deep breath. The idea of kissing Harry was growing on him, at war with his pureblooded sense of decorum that shouted how inappropriate a kiss would be. “Okay, yes, you may kiss me.”

“Really?”

“Just a short one,” Draco warned. “Nothing elaborate.”

“Of course not,” Harry couldn’t keep the smirk off of his face, but he leaned in, feeling Draco’s lips press back, working against his own imperceptibly.

Draco closed his eyes, sitting firmly as Harry kissed him unflinchingly. He was aware of the salty breeze, the heat and warmth of Harry’s half-naked body beside him, and the menacing glare that Ash was bestowing upon him from across the boat. Just to spite their guide, Draco brought his hand up to lay his palm along Harry’s cheek as he deepened the kiss. Harry, he could tell, was surprised but went along with it, allowing Draco’s tongue access to his mouth. The Gryffindor seemed almost hesitant to return the favor, but Draco kept teasing him until finally Harry’s tongue tasted the inside of Draco’s mouth once more.

The energy between them was alive with desire, even without the enchanted water, and Draco reluctantly brought their kiss to a halt, closing his mouth gently, making Harry whimper, until he finally pulled back about an inch, still close but their lips were no longer touching.

“I thought I said nothing elaborate,” he whispered, mock-chiding Harry. “There was definitely elaboration.”

Harry was terrified. Yes, Draco had given permission for Harry to kiss him, and yes, Draco had set the limit for said kiss. And then it was DRACO who had gone and broken it! Harry went along with it, but he was wondering when Draco’s strict self-control would jump in and make him yank away. To his surprise, the blonde continued the kiss back into chaste territory, and by the time Draco pulled away, Harry’s face was completely red. As soon as he could THINK again, his terror kicked in at Draco’s words and he began to stammer an apology until he glanced up sheepishly into Draco’s smirking face.

“Are you GIGGLING?” The Gryffindor did a double take. “You ARE! You faker!”

“You caught me,” Draco finally suppressed his mirth, his grey eyes sparkling happily. He looked so open and not guarded that Harry couldn’t even be mad at him for messing with his head. He hadn’t seen Draco GIGGLE before, but it was definitely a sight he wanted to see again.

“Your snogging privileges have been revoked,” Harry informed him in playful indignation, winking so that Draco knew he was kidding.

“That hurts you more than it hurts me,” Draco pointed out logically, and Harry frowned. He was right. “Of course I’m right.” Damn, he had said that out loud!

“Then I’ll just have to think of something ELSE to revoke from you,” Harry countered, and Draco arched one pale eyebrow. “THERE! THAT! THAT RIGHT THERE! No more eyebrow for you! Stop that! It drives me crazy when you do that, and I just want to…pounce on you,” Harry suddenly dropped his voice and whispered the last three words so that the crew (who weren’t around anyway but just in case) didn’t hear. Draco looked surprised but pleased with himself at Harry’s admission, even though he obeyed the Gryffindor’s command.

“Oh, and I’m not a mouse, Potter,” Draco said dryly. “You can’t just ‘pounce’ on me.”

“I’m a lion, Malfoy,” Harry grinned, dragging out Draco’s last name. “I pounce on whoever I please.”

“Then what does that make Asha Mehran?” Draco replied, his gaze flicking just past Harry’s shoulder to where Ash was busy with the boat, but would glance over to where they were sitting every now and again with a hateful glare.

“What do you mean?” Harry squirmed, uncomfortable with where this was going.

“He looks ready to pounce on YOU, Mister Big Bad Lion,” Draco’s eyes narrowed for a split second as he glared back at Ash, and then he relaxed again when he looked at Harry.

“He’s not my type,” Harry replied instantly.

“Does HE know that?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Harry smiled. “You are the one I care about. And stop that; you don’t have to say anything back.” Draco had blanched with a ‘deer in the headlights’ look, as he usually did when Harry said or did something affectionate.

“Sorry, force of habit,” Draco gestured weakly, trying to shrug off the negative emotion.

“It’s okay,” Harry said softly, reaching out and catching one of Draco’s hands, squeezing briefly before letting go. “I’ll just keep doing it until you’ve formed new habits.”

Instead of answering, Draco ducked his head to hide the pastel stain on his cheeks as they sat quietly, comfortable in each other’s presence without the need to speak. Draco retrieved his book from the floor of the boat, settling it on his thighs as he opened it to his previous page.

“What are you doing?” He looked at Harry in confusion as the black haired boy sat right beside him, their arms and shoulders touching.

“I want to read with you,” Harry announced.

“But you don’t know what’s going on,” Draco frowned doubtfully. “You haven’t read the rest of the book.”

“That’s okay, I’m sure it’s not TOO terribly hard to figure out what’s going on,” Harry said.

“Maybe not for ME…”

“Hey, I killed Voldemort, thank you very much. I think I can handle a wimpy little plot,” Harry protested, giving Draco a nudge. The blonde flinched a bit at the name, but sighed and acquiesced. They sat side-by-side in silence for about a minute, and then Draco turned the page.

“I wasn’t finished.”

“Tough, Potter.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know what’s going on if you don’t let me read the entire page?”

“You’re going to get bored in about two minutes and go off on your own anyway,” Draco murmured, keeping his eyes on the book, though he was trying not to laugh. He could feel Harry’s emerald gaze on him, but he kept himself from glancing up.

“Am not,” Harry muttered back, starting to read the next page, squawking indignantly again when Draco turned it before he had finished.

“Potter, if you would read instead of flapping your gums, you might finish an entire two pages,” Draco snickered.

“How about you not read so fast, Hermione,” Harry suggested. That made Draco look up, arching his eyebrow imperiously.

“I revoke your speaking privileges,” Draco winked. Harry pretend-glared at him for about a second, struggling to his feet. “See, I told you so.”

“I revoke your right to be a prat,” Harry countered, giving Draco’s knees an affectionate slap so that the blonde would know he wasn’t angry or upset.

“Get out of here,” Draco responded warmly, and Harry couldn’t suppress a grin as he walked away. Draco was getting better about showing his emotions, Harry realized, even if it WAS through bantering and teasing him.

**********

It was late afternoon and almost early evening by the time the shoreline of Olympos came into sight, causing everyone to cheer. It had gotten slightly chillier on the water as the sun set, and Harry put his shirt back on, grabbing a sweater out of his pack as well. Draco was sitting down in the boat, shielded from most of the wind, so he was fine in just the shirt he was wearing.

“Harry, Draco, do you want to help bring the boat in?” Ash offered as the crew set about readying the boat to dock. Draco looked up from the journal to catch Harry’s eye. After wandering about the boat and talking to Ash and some of the others for a bit, Harry had returned to steal Draco’s book. Draco grumbled a bit, but he dutifully pulled out the journal and began to chronicle exactly how annoying the Gryffindor had been on the boat ride back (in good fun, of course) while Harry read his book.

“Sure!” Harry put the book down and jumped to his feet.

“Alright,” Draco replied, holding his hand out for the book, which Harry handed him, and packed them away.

“Great! Okay, Draco, you come up here by me, and Harry, you head to the stern,” Ash instructed. Draco was rather surprised that Ash wanted him nearby instead of Harry, but he followed their guide to the side of the boat while Harry made his way to the back. “Draco, you stand here,” Ash pointed to a spot. “Now, as we get closer to the dock, the crew is going to pull in the sail to slow us down and then we’re going to have to throw the rope out to tie her up.”

“Okay,” Draco said uncertainly.

“Don’t worry, it’s easy,” Ash laughed. “Tell you what; I’ll throw the rope if you’ll reel in the foot.”

“The what?”

“The foot is this bottom part of the sail,” Ash indicated. “It attaches here, and you just have to pulley this in order to roll it up. Then it can’t catch the wind and speed us up anymore. Make sense?”

“Got it,” Draco looked up, biting his lower lip. “How heavy is it?”

“Oh, not very,” Ash said lightly. “You’ll be fine. I’ll give you the signal when to start pulling.”

Draco nodded, catching sight of Harry on the other side of the boat. The Gryffindor was standing in between several of the men, and it seemed as if one of them was showing him how they were going to pull the large rope that hung slack in front of them. Harry was nodding, looking up as the man pointed to the top of the sail, pantomiming how the sheet wrapped up. Once he was finished, Harry’s eyes immediately locked with Draco’s, and they both smiled.

Ash yelled something in Turkish, and the men began pulling on the rope, Harry included. Draco watched, fascinated at the Muggle way of doing things even though he was fairly confident that Ash was a wizard. He glanced over at Ash every now and again to see if his part was coming up yet, but the guide was paying no attention, watching intently as the dock came closer.

“Okay, Draco, NOW!” Ash was gathering up an armful of rope when he gave Draco the signal.

Draco grabbed the pulley Ash had indicated and began reeling. The foot of the sail slowly and jerkily raised, and then suddenly it dropped just as Ash heaved several large coils of rope. Draco yelled as both the fabric and the rope struck him, knocking him backward over the rail and into the water!

Harry’s head snapped up just in time to see Draco disappear over the railing. He was frozen to the spot for a split second, unable to believe what he had just seen, but then Ash was diving headfirst into the water.

“DRACO!” He hollered, abandoning his post. It took him several seconds to weave through the throng of the crew, his panic growing.

Ash had purposely waited until almost the last second to give Draco the signal, knowing that the combination of the blonde’s inexperience and the wind would work against him. If the sail wasn’t reeled in smoothly, it would almost always come crashing back down on whoever was holding the pulley rope. Ash had also perfectly timed his throw so that he ‘accidentally’ hit Draco with the tie-rope. This would teach the snotty blonde to flaunt what Ash wanted.

Of course, it would look suspicious if Ash was standing right there and did nothing as Draco, the inexperienced seaman, went overboard, so he promptly dropped the rope and dove. Draco hit the water right next to the boat, and was desperately clawing at the side to keep from being sucked underneath. Ash dove out a bit, treading water easily as he grabbed a rough handful of Draco’s shirt and hauled him along the side of the boat, out of the more forceful undercurrents.

Ash took a deep breath and went under, pulling the flailing blonde along with him. Draco was fighting him, and he was strong, as most were when they realized their life was on the line, but Ash was used to it. He did not struggle to contain Draco’s arms or legs; he merely kept his hold on the blonde’s shirt that was keeping them under as he placed his other hand alongside Draco’s head and shoved it violently into the side of the boat. Since it was underwater, the blow wasn’t nearly as strong as it would have been above water, but had they been above water, the strength Ash used would’ve caused Draco’s temple to cave when it hit the boat.

As it was, it merely opened up a head wound, and blood mingled with the water. Draco’s struggling didn’t cease completely, but it definitely lessened as he was nearly knocked unconscious. Ash smiled meanly in grim satisfaction, feeling a sudden pressure behind him as someone else hit the water. He supposed it was Harry; who else would come after the worthless blonde? He swung into action, kicking toward the surface and pulling Draco along with him.

They both surfaced, and Ash turned, loosening his hold on Draco without letting go, to see Harry frantically swimming towards them, calling Draco’s name. Ash reached out with his other hand to grab Harry’s, pulling the three of them closer together.

“Harry, calm down, it’s okay,” Ash murmured, pulling the black haired boy’s body against his own as he continued to tread.

“It’s NOT okay! Draco!” Harry wailed, his heart feeling like it was about to explode when he saw the blood.

“Help me get him to the dock, Harry,” Ash tried to recapture Harry’s attention. “He hit his head on the boat when he fell, but don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”

Harry nodded, swallowing his tears as he gently pushed Draco, who was barely conscious, through the water. Ash supported Harry from behind. They were practically right there at the dock, but they had to move out of the way of the boat. Ash guided them to a side post, which Harry grabbed. Ash pressed himself to Harry’s back as the Gryffindor’s chest was pressed against the post, and then he, too, grabbed the post. He put one arm low around Harry’s hips, pushing the boy upward as Harry pulled himself out of the water and onto the dock, where he sprawled for a split second, coughing and panting.

Harry rolled over, holding both arms out as Ash clung to the pole with just his legs, lifting Draco’s limp body out of the water and passing him up to Harry. The Gryffindor gasped; as little as Draco weighed, he was still dead weight and soaking wet, but Harry’s adrenaline kicked in, allowing him to haul Draco up and onto the wooden dock, where he frantically checked for a heartbeat and a pulse, trying not to look at the bloody mess at Draco’s temple.

Other people started to crowd around, and Harry belatedly recognized that they were medical personnel. Ash pulled Harry out of the way by his shoulders, holding the trembling boy close. Someone brought blankets, and Ash wrapped one around himself and Harry, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder from behind, pressing his cheek to Harry’s neck as he reassured the black haired boy that Draco would be fine.

“Come, Harry, let’s get you dried off and into some warmer clothes,” Ash urged. Harry ignored him, completely focused on Draco’s prone form lying on the dock. It wasn’t until they had loaded Draco onto a stretcher and were moving him towards actual land that Harry started forward, oblivious to Ash trying to hang onto him.

“What’s going on? Is he alright? Where are you taking him?” Harry broke into a jog, twisting away from Ash to bombard one of the paramedics with questions. The guy gave him a polite smile and replied in Turkish.

“They’re taking him to hospital,” Ash said as he caught up, wrapping an arm firmly around Harry’s waist while he spoke to the paramedic. “He will be fine, but they want to get him warm and monitor his head. Come, I will escort you.”

He led Harry to the jeep. Every time he glanced sideways at Harry, the boy looked dejected and worried. His green eyes were dull, and he stared at the dashboard without really seeing it. Ash hoped he would snap out of it once they knew that Draco was okay.

**********

Harry didn’t speak or respond to any of Ash’s attempts at conversation on the way to the hospital, following the ambulance. Frustrated, the man finally gave up, and they pulled into the parking lot. Harry jumped out of the jeep before Ash could even bring it to a complete stop and ran towards the emergency door, where they were just unloading Draco. The blonde was awake, his eyes darting around in confusion, but Harry noticed that they had strapped him down to keep him from moving and he was wearing a neck brace.

“Draco, I’m here,” Harry called, grasping Draco’s fingers as he jogged alongside the stretcher, ignoring the medical personnel’s attempts to push him away. He stayed focused on Draco, brushing them off absently as if they were flies. “It’s going to be okay; you’re going to be okay!”

“Harry,” Draco croaked, and then one of the men turned and stepped into Harry’s path, stopping him from accompanying the stretcher through the swinging door. Harry cried out and tried to get around him, but the man grabbed his arms and shook him to get his attention.

“You no can follow heem there,” the doctor said firmly in broken English, though his eyes looked kind and sad. “We take good care of heem—good care—you wait here, and we bring heem back to you. Okay?”

Harry bobbed his head and thanked the man. The doctor nodded back and then disappeared after Draco while Harry made his way to the waiting room the doctor indicated when he said ‘here’ that was just down the hall. He had just realized that his clothes were soaking wet (and therefore, he didn’t want to sit in a chair and make it wet too) when Ash walked up, carrying a small duffel bag. Harry smiled at him, which gave Ash hope that Harry was more lucid now.

“I brought a change of clothes for us,” he said, touching the small of Harry’s back as he led the Gryffindor to the men’s restroom. There was only one curtain with a squat toilet behind it. Harry blushed furiously as Ash graciously indicated that Harry could use the ‘stall’. The Turkish man watched Harry’s shadow shamelessly as he peeled off his wet clothing and pulled the clean, loose-fitting shirt and pants on.

“Is it okay if I come out?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Ash replied, having just pulled his own pants up. Harry drew the curtain back to find Ash shirtless, and he stared for a moment, flustered, before apologizing. Ash laughed good-naturedly and reached out, taking Harry’s wrist and drawing him out of the ‘stall’.

“What are you doing?” Harry licked his lips nervously, noticing that the atmosphere in the bathroom had changed.

“Harry, I thought you Westerners weren’t modest,” Ash purred, pulling Harry closer to him.

“I’m British,” he explained. “Americans aren’t modest, but we Brits have a strict sense of decorum.”

“Mmmm, as do we Turks, but I must say that I find you stunningly attractive,” Ash slid his hands around to Harry’s back under his shirt, pulling the black haired boy against his bare chest.

“Th-thanks,” Harry stammered, putting his palms on Ash’s shoulders, confused and not wanting to make a scene but ready to push the guide away if things went too far. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I wondered if you’d noticed me,” Ash said loftily, lowering his head to smell the side of Harry’s neck. Giving in to temptation, he softly licked and then began to kiss just below Harry’s ear.

“Ash, what are you doing?” Harry tensed and tried to push the man away, but Ash just pulled Harry closer, his strong arms locked around Harry’s back. “Stop! You’re too close…this isn’t right!”

“Come on, Harry, I know you want me,” Ash mumbled, moving his lips to Harry’s jawbone and tried to kiss him on the mouth as Harry began struggling in his grip.

“I don’t want this!” Harry exclaimed, turning his head from side to side to keep Ash from kissing him. “I’m with Draco!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Draco,” Ash slid one hand over Harry’s bum, squeezing through the thin material that didn’t restrict quite as much as Harry’s jeans did. “It’ll be our little secret; you know you want it.”

“No, I DON’T!” Harry emphasized each word, bringing his knee up in between Ash’s legs forcefully on the last word. Ash’s chest collapsed, all of the air knocked out of him, and he gave a grunt of pain as he froze, letting go of Harry to clutch his crotch as he fell back against the wall and to the floor. Harry stepped back, breathing hard, and he purposefully scrubbed at his neck where Ash had been nibbling. The scene from outside the restaurant—when he had had to knee Aiden in almost the exact same manner—came flashing back to him.

“I said ‘no’,” Harry’s voice was cold, even though his heart was fluttering a million miles a minute. “I thought you were a nice person, and I WANTED to be friends. I’m WITH Draco; HE’s the one I want like that, and you can go fuck yourself. Go to hell, Ash.”

Harry grabbed his wet clothes; he had dropped them in surprise when Ash touched him and stormed out of the bathroom, leaving the Turkish man writhing in pain on the floor. He stalked right up to the desk and demanded that Draco be brought to him immediately, since they were leaving. The nurse didn’t speak English, and he was rather scared of Harry’s insistence.

“Go get the doctor,” Harry ordered, pointing. “Doctor? You know, coat? Beard? Short guy? Speaks a little English?” Harry pantomimed the doctor who had spoken to him earlier, brushing a hand over his chin to indicate the facial hair and then holding his fingers apart about an inch when he said ‘little English’.

“Evet,” the nurse bobbed his head enthusiastically. “Leettle Eenglish; doctor…” And he scurried off to the back, leaving Harry tapping his fingers impatiently on the counter until the same doctor from before appeared, frowning as the nurse was chattering to him in Turkish, pointing at Harry.

“Sir? Problem?” The doctor looked at Harry in confusion.

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “I need you to get Draco. We’re leaving.”

“Finish tests first,” the doctor said, but Harry interrupted.

“No, no finish tests,” Harry pointed to his feet. “Bring him here NOW. I’m taking him home. Back to England.”

“You take heem to doctor in Eengland?”

“Yes, yes, I’m going to take him to a doctor in England,” Harry agreed.

“Good care here,” the Turkish doctor protested. “Good like in Eengland.”

“I’m sure you take very good care of your patients,” Harry said. “That’s not why. I’m sure you’re a brilliant doctor, but Draco and I are leaving now. Bring him here, please? I don’t want to have to go and get him.” Harry started for the door that the doctor had forbade him from entering earlier. The doctor jumped forward and put a hand out, almost on Harry’s chest.

“No, no, I get heem,” the doctor replied. “You wait here. I bring heem to you now.”

“Yes, bring him to me,” Harry nodded gratefully, and the doctor, satisfied that Harry wasn’t going to follow him, turned and went back, speaking to the male nurse quietly. Harry drummed his fingers on the counter again, and about five minutes later, the doctor reappeared holding onto Draco’s elbow. The blonde was walking slowly, accompanied by the male nurse on his other side.

“Harry, what’s going on?” Draco asked in confusion. Harry noticed that the crude bandage on his head was nearly soaked through with blood from his head wound.

“We’re leaving,” Harry said shortly as they came through the door. The nurse moved as Harry attached himself to Draco’s side, putting one arm around his waist and supporting him.

“Wait,” the doctor stepped in front of them, eyeing Harry sternly. “He has head wound,” the doctor pointed to the bandage. “No sleep; take heem to doctor in Eengland now. No wait. Okay?”

“Got it,” Harry nodded. “Thank you for helping him. I’ve got him now. Thank you.”

“What’s going on? We’re going back to England?” Draco was woozy but he tried to pay attention. “It’s night; the Ministry’s not open.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Harry said, helping Draco out of the hospital. There was a family walking out at the same time, and Harry called out to the man, asking if he could take them to their hotel. It was obvious that the man didn’t speak English, but Harry got the pronunciation of their hotel name right after the third try and recognition dawned. He helped Harry escort Draco to their car while his wife, her face veiled and she did not look up, trailed behind with their children, who were absolutely silent, watching the two boys.

No one spoke in the car. Draco blinked heavily, and Harry kept peering at him, making sure he didn’t go to sleep sitting up. It was a short ride, and Harry smiled gratefully at the man, saying thank you over and over as he and Draco got out of the car.

**********

The girl at the front desk spoke English, and she explained that though the hotel and staff were Muggle, they often catered to wizard tourists such as Harry and Draco. Harry insisted that she contact the Turkish Ministry and arrange for them to Floo back to Britain immediately so that Draco could receive medical attention. They had taken all of their belongings with them when they left for the island, but the hotel didn’t exactly check them out, since they were returning.

“It could be a little bit before I’m able to get hold of someone, sir,” the girl said apologetically. “If you want, you can head up to your room, and I’ll ring you once I’ve found out something. Here is your room key; it’s a different room, I’m afraid, but I hope you’ll find it satisfactory nonetheless.”

“If you are able to reach the Ministry, we won’t be staying overnight,” Harry said sensibly. “I don’t want to pay for a room that we’re only going to sit in for half an hour.”

“Let me see what I can do,” the girl flushed and picked up the phone. Harry led Draco to one of the couches in the lobby, and they sat. Harry kept Draco awake by asking the blonde questions about their previous adventures as if he were on a Muggle trivia game show. Draco was able to answer, but he was slow and hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure he was giving the correct answer. He complained that his head hurt, but Harry couldn’t do anything about that. After about ten minutes, another man walked into the lobby, holding Harry’s and Draco’s backpacks. It was one of Ash’s crew members.

“Harry, you forgot these,” he said, setting the bags at Harry’s feet.

“Thank you,” the Gryffindor replied tersely, unsure whose side the man would be on. They both glanced at Draco.

“How is he?” The man’s concern was touching.

“He’ll be okay, I think,” Harry fondly brushed a lock of hair off of Draco’s forehead. “Have you talked to Ash recently?”

The Turkish seaman coughed indelicately and rubbed the back of his neck.

“At the hospital, when we found out that you had taken Draco out of there,” the man said, perching uncomfortably on a nearby chair. “The doctor was especially worried because he determined that Draco’s head wound couldn’t have been made by him merely hitting his head on the boat, even in the fall. The doctor thought that it was consistent with Draco being assaulted.”

“And he thought that I hit Draco?” Harry asked angrily, his voice rising. Draco’s brow furrowed as he shook his head, looking down at his lap. He was ashamed because he couldn’t remember much more than falling into the water and then waking up on a stretcher, surrounded by Muggle strangers who didn’t even speak English and no Harry in sight.

“Well, that’s what the doctor assumed,” the crewman said. “This wouldn’t be the first time Ash has tried something like this, though.”

“Wait, WHAT?” Harry did a double take.

“He came onto you, didn’t he? That’s why you pulled Draco out of the hospital so fast.”

“What?” Draco’s head snapped up to look incredulously at Harry, who was staring open-mouthed at Ash’s crew member.

“How the hell do you know about that?”

“It HAPPENED?” Draco’s voice reflected his shock, and Harry turned to him before the other man could answer his own question.

“He came onto me in the loo when he brought me a change of clothes,” Harry explained urgently. “While I was waiting for you. He tried to kiss me, but I kneed him in the groin. Fucking prick doesn’t take a hint unless it’s obvious. I told him ‘no’, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s Ash,” the Turkish man nodded. “He’s nice enough at first, but if someone gets in the way of his target, then watch out. He’s clever and sneaky, but this is the furthest he’s ever gone by way of harming someone.”

“ASH HIT DRACO?” Harry raged, and Draco winced at his roaring tone. His head was still throbbing, and Harry’s anger wasn’t helping. The girl at the desk jumped a mile, looking over her shoulder as if she expected to be attacked.

“Well, smacked his head into the side of the boat is more like it,” the crewman winced away from Harry’s murderous look. “When he fell overboard, or rather, when Ash engineered his ‘fall’ overboard and jumped in after him, he knocked Draco’s head against the side of the boat and then pulled him under, trying to drown him. That’s when you jumped in, I guess, and he pretended to be saving Draco.”

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, but no sound came out. The muscles in his neck strained as he struggled to get control of himself. Draco frowned, glancing at the Gryffindor out of the corner of his eye and slinking his hand over to Harry’s knee as he looked back at Ash’s crewmember.

“How do you know this?” He asked.

“Ash confessed at the dock,” the man admitted. “After you left the hospital, he returned to get your bags,” he indicated the luggage sitting beside them. “Kadir—the captain—noticed the blood on the side of the boat once we docked it. Even though it was a little bit under the surface, the side of the boat was still noticeably stained. He called the police, who were going to go question Ash at the hospital when he showed up, furious and muttering about how he was going to ‘finish what he started’ with both of you.”

Harry covered Draco’s fingers, closing his eyes as he realized how close they had come to being attacked or worse.

“So where is Ash now?” Harry’s voice was low and controlled, though he still wanted to maim their former guide very badly.

“Jail,” the man replied. “They started questioning him, and he confessed. You must’ve really thrown him off because they’ve never been able to prove anything before. We all know what he’s like,” he shrugged. “But he pays well.”

“So why was this time different?” Draco asked.

“It was Kadir’s boat, and he didn’t want trouble like that,” the man said simply. “Like I said, Ash was always a sneaky bastard; he never left any evidence or anything until now. He must’ve hated you pretty badly,” he said to Draco. “Or wanted you equally badly,” he added to Harry.

“Merlin,” Harry swore softly. “So he’s not going to get away with this?”

“No, but your testimony would help,” the man replied. “Although, whether he is convicted in a Muggle court or a wizard one, I do not know. He IS a wizard, after all, as are we.”

“Will he go to Azkaban?” Harry squeezed Draco’s fingers. The man nodded.

“Though it is hard to say whether our Muggle prisons are worse here,” he smiled ruefully.

“Sir?” The girl at the desk walked over. “I’m very sorry, but the Ministry won’t be able to authorize your departure until tomorrow morning. Would you like your room key now?”

“Yes,” Harry took it from her and gave her a tight-lipped smile. “That’s okay; we have to go file our reports first thing in the morning for the police before we can go anyway.”

“Harry, I’m tired,” Draco replied. Harry got to his feet and picked up the bags, holding his hand out to shake Ash’s crewmember’s hand.

“Thank you for bringing our stuff, and thank you for taking our side,” Harry said. Draco smiled wanly, not having the energy to shake the man’s hand. The Turkish man nodded to them and walked out of the lobby. Harry supported Draco as the blonde stood and was practically carrying him, in addition to their bags, by the time they got to their room.

Harry opened the door and flicked on the light. The main difference was that this room had one large bed instead of two single ones, but that was perfectly alright with Harry. He dropped their stuff in a heap and helped Draco sit on the bed, gently pulling his damp clothing off. If he wasn’t so worried about the blonde and angry at Ash, Harry would’ve been aroused, but as it was, there was nothing remotely sexy about the situation. He fetched Draco’s pajamas from the suitcase. Draco’s eyelids were drooping, and Harry was torn between letting Draco sleep and heeding the doctor’s advice.

The Gryffindor settled for setting the alarm to go off in several hours to make sure that Draco would wake up, and he helped the blonde get under the covers. When Harry slid into bed behind him and wrapped his arms protectively around Draco in the spooning position, he could feel the lithe body cease to tremble, smiling when Draco emitted a soft, contented sigh.

“Good night, angel,” Harry whispered, ghosting his lips over the back of Draco’s neck and closing his eyes. Draco murmured a nonsense response, too far gone, exhausted from the day.

**********

Author's note--Did you see the song lyric? "You're the only one who's got enough of me to break my heart" from Taylor Swift's "Teardrops on My Guitar". So not too sappy, right? Let's hope not.

I would like to hopefully dispell any protestations that Ash didn't *seem* like a bad guy when he was first introduced in Chapter 9, and you're completely right. He seemed perfectly nice at first (as most/all abusers, batterers, and rapists do) but he also wasn't IN the chapter very much. I hope that I explained his reasons for not being AS nice on the way back adequately.

And in case you were wondering, "Evet" is "yes" in Turkish. (I looked it up)

Thank you, everyone who has reviewed thus far! It's not fair for the delay, but we appreciate your understanding and your support!

Thank you for reading, and we hope you'll come back!

~Graballz

*falls on ground after reading wonderful reviews asking for an update* We're not worthy! We're not worthy!